


The Inquisitor's Champion

by SmokeysWife



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeysWife/pseuds/SmokeysWife
Summary: A plot bunny that came into my head and wouldn't escape. The story of how Herah Adaar and Garrett Hawke came to be, told from Varric's POV.





	The Inquisitor's Champion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid if you haven't played the game, this almost certainly won't make sense as it jumps from scene to scene to begin with. For everyone else - enjoy! I love this pair:)
> 
> This is just for fun and no profit or commercial gain is being made from it. All characters etc belong to Bioware and while I have tried to keep it to a minimum, some in-game dialogue is utilised.

‘I am a Qunari army.’

Garrett let out a snort of amusement as the Inquisitor gave him a small smirk and Varric let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Taking a swig from his bottle of wine, he quietly excused himself, leaving his best friend to talk to the leader of the Inquisition in private.

Walking down the stairs as quietly as only a rogue could, he almost made it to the Herald’s Rest without being spotted, when a voice made him stop in his tracks.

‘Varric! A word!’

Ah, shit.

 

‘The Inquisitor was asking what you’d told me about her,’ Hawke said, grinning over his mug. Varric raised an eyebrow with a small amount of trepidation. ‘I told her only good things of course. Which is elaborating somewhat, because I can’t actually remember you saying much about her at all, Varric. Especially not what a fine figure of a woman Lady Adaar is.’

Garrett looked down at his mug, swirling it thoughtfully as he added in an innocent voice, ‘I’ve never been with a Qunari before…’

‘Hawke…’ Varric said, a note of warning in his voice. ‘Herah is a friend.’

Hawke put his hand to his chest as though Varric had wounded him. ‘You have other friends?’

Varric rolled his eyes and took a swig of his drink.

‘I mean it, Hawke. Play nice.’

‘When do I ever not play nice? I would have thought you’d appreciate your two friends getting better acquainted.’

Varric let out a small sigh. ‘Not in the way you have in mind.’

‘You’ve never minded before.’

‘You’ve never tried to hook up with one of my friends before.’

‘What about Isabela?’

‘Rivaini has never had any issue separating the physical from… other stuff. Hell, if anything, I was more worried about you getting hurt.’

‘I’m touched,’ Hawke said, with a smirk.

‘Herah is surprisingly soft under all that… Qunari,’ Varric continued, ignoring his friend.

‘She seems like a woman who knows her own mind to me.’

‘Oh, she does. And she’ll flirt with everyone. But in all the time I’ve known her, she’s not had a single dalliance. Maker, half of Skyhold would have her if she’d asked, but I’ve never known her take a single one up on it.’

Varric saw the raised eyebrow, and added, ‘That was not intended as a challenge, Hawke!’

‘Fine,’ Hawke said, with an exaggerated huff. ‘No playing hide the nug with the Inquisitor. But you’re buying the next round.’

 

‘Cassandra is waiting for the next copy of Swords and Shields you know,’ Herah said, swinging her long legs over the side of the chair next to Varric.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that correctly. Did you just say Cassandra was reading my book?’

‘She’s a big fan, in fact,’ Herah smirked. ‘Might help to get you back into her good graces.’

Varric huffed.

‘On one condition. I have to be there when you give it to her.’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Ser Tethras,’ Herah replied with a grin. She looked down at her hands, picking her nails, and added casually, ‘I finished your Tale of the Champion. It was very good. I have a few questions though.’

‘That’s a pretty common reaction.’

‘That battle with the Arishok…?’

‘All true.’

He chuckled as she looked up at him incredulously. ‘So, Hawke really…’

‘Yup.’

Her mouth opened in a slight ‘o’. She flushed slightly and returned to her hands. ‘Where are all the companions now?’

Varric reeled off what he knew, his sharp eyes not missing the way she seemed to pay particular attention to news of a certain Rivaini captain.

‘So, Hawke hasn’t seen any of them for a while?’ she asked when he had finished.

‘Not as far as I am aware,’ Varric said, watching her carefully.

‘Pity,’ she said, her voice distant. She gathered herself and moved to stand. ‘Well I best get going. We leave for Crestwood at first light.’

Varric bid her goodnight with a grin, which turned into a faint frown as he watched her walk away. Well, shit.

 

‘What is that?’ Garrett choked, pointing a finger at Cassandra as he doubled up with laughter. Varric bit his lip to conceal his grin as Cassandra made a disgusted noise and walked past Garrett out of the cave where they had met Stroud. He’d only just returned to speaking terms with the Seeker and he had no desire to jeopardise that.

‘That is the Wedge of Destiny, and it happens to provide better protection than any shield we currently have in the armoury,’ Herah said, as she came out of the cave. Her voice was carefully neutral, but there was a twitch to her lip as she said it.

‘And yet you didn’t choose to equip it for yourself, Inquisitor?’ Hawke asked, wiping away a tear as he stood to look at her.

‘Well, I wouldn’t want it said that I hogged all the best gear for myself, would I? And I happen to be very attached to my shield,’ she replied, a twinkle in her eyes as she patted the shield she’d looted off a dead templar not two days before. ‘See you in the Western Approach, Hawke.’

She winked at Varric before stepping forward to join the Seeker. Varric looked up at Hawke who was shaking his head in admiration, his shoulders still quivering from repressed laughter, and shook his head in turn. Those two may just be meant for each other.

 

‘Someone’s certainly a tool,’ Varric muttered, as he watched the interchange between Herah and the magister. He heard a quiet snort beside him, and briefly met Hawke’s eye before turning back to the scene.

‘Let the wardens go. I won’t ask again,’ Herah said, her voice dangerously low.

‘No, you won’t,’ the mad bastard replied, doing something with his hand that brought the Herald to her knees. Varric felt Hawke tense beside him and sent him a quick glance, shaking his head. She could handle this.

Herah sent Erimond flying with a gesture of her hand, drawing her sword and shield and the battle began in earnest. Varric could feel the familiar tingle of Hawke’s magic brushing past him as they fought, targeting the foe closest to Herah without fail. Varric packed the observation away under the ‘to discuss later’ file.

 

‘.. the Inquisitor is just what we need,’ Hawke said, as he finished telling Varric about the news from Adamant. Varric raised his eyebrows but moved past the moment as he saw Herah approach. His eyebrows raised higher as he saw Hawke straighten.

‘Inquisitor, I’ve left my report with your advisors in the war room. They’re discussing options now,’ he said, practically oozing professionalism. Herah gave them a slightly bewildered smile and a nod as she walked past them into the room beyond.

‘What?’ Hawke said, as the door closed behind her and he turned to find Varric watching him.

‘Nothing,’ Varric said, shaking his head. ‘Nothing at all.’

 

Herah let out a peal of laughter, throwing her head back. Varric smiled at the involuntary show of happiness; it was rare to see the Inquisitor so unguarded. He glanced at Hawke, who was sat with a huge grin on his face as he watched her laugh at his joke, her horns glinting in the firelight. If Varric didn’t know better, he would say that his friend was enraptured.

Herah straightened up, wiping the tears from her eyes.

‘I can’t believe you did that!’ she said.

‘All of it true, I swear, My Lady,’ Hawke said, raising his hands in innocence.

‘Which isn’t to say it wasn’t without elaboration,’ Varric added with a grin and a wink at his friend. Hawke glowered at him.

‘Your worship? The Commander would like to discuss plans for the final approach to Adamant.’

Varric watched as the lightness left her, and she nodded curtly to the messenger.

‘I’ll be along now,’ she said, climbing to her feet with an apologetic smile to Varric and Garrett. ‘Duty calls I’m afraid.’

Varric turned to look at Hawke as she walked away. His friend was gazing after her with a look the dwarf had never seen on his face before.

 

‘Inquisitor! Always a pleasure,’ Hawke called, as the pride demon fell at her final charge. ‘How can I serve?’

Herah straightened, brushing the hair from her eyes.

‘Stay on the battlements, keep my men alive,’ she instructed him. Varric saw Hawke look momentarily disconcerted before nodding once.

‘Of course, Inquisitor.’

She gave Garrett a grateful grin, before running off to the next target.

 

Varric gripped Bianca tighter as he took in the scene in front of him. They were in the fade. The actual Fade. Andraste’s tits.

He could hear Hawke and Stroud sniping at each other, their voices getting louder. Glancing at Herah, he could see her jaw ticking as she clenched it, her eyes uneasy as she took in the sight. Chuckles gushing enthusiastically couldn’t be helping her sanity any more than it was helping his.

‘Maker, will you both shut up!’ she yelled suddenly, bringing both Hawke and Stroud to a stop. She took a deep breath, before adding in a calmer voice, ‘Now is not the time.’

Varric could see Hawke open his mouth to speak, but Stroud spoke over him.

‘Inquisitor…’ he said, gesturing behind her. She let out an almost inaudible sigh and drew her sword as she ran towards the terrors.

 

It was a sombre party that travelled back to Skyhold. Normally Varric would have been the one to rally the troops, cheer them with a witty tale, but he was too wrapped up in his thoughts, processing everything he had seen and heard in the Fade.  
He cast a quick glance at Hawke, who was riding dejectedly by his side, a glower on his face. Occasionally he would cast a glance at the horned figure riding up front, and Varric would see his jaw tense in anger. Varric frowned; it was clear something had happened after he had come back through the rift, something that had resulted in them losing Stroud but neither Herah nor Hawke would talk about it.

His gaze moved to Herah. She sat rigidly on her horse, her back straight. He couldn’t see her face from here, but he knew the look that would be on it. Eyes gazing straight ahead, jaw clenched; it was the wall she put up when she was close to breaking. He couldn’t say he blamed her; of all their party who had been in the Fade, the Nightmare had latched onto her the most.

Ox-man. Tal Vashoth. Savage.

Varric felt his chest squeeze painfully as he realised how often he had heard those words murmured in her presence. He’d never realised how badly they must have affected her until it had become apparent that was her greatest fear; living up to the stereotypes and fulfilling the low expectations of all those who met her and didn’t see past her grey skin and her horns.

 

‘…didn’t have to die!’

Varric turned at the sound of Hawke’s raised voice and saw Garrett and Herah in the courtyard, both flushed, both with their hands clenched. He cursed inwardly and moved quietly towards them. He had seen Hawke like this after Leandra had died; angry and lashing out.

‘And I suppose you’d have preferred it, if it had been you?’ Herah said, her voice deceptively calm. You’d need to know her well before you could pick up on the barely contained anger.

‘It should have been me. The Wardens need Stroud; he was the tactical choice. The right choice!’ Garrett shook his head in disgust. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected a Tal Vashoth to understand that.’

Varric had seen Hawke pull this trick with Carver multiple times, goading his brother until he hit him. For a moment, he thought Herah might oblige but what happened next was far worse. Varric watched as her face drained of colour, looking at Hawke as though he had slapped her. Opening her mouth, he thought she might scream at Garrett, and that would have been a relief. Instead her mouth closed and her shoulders tightened. Without another word, she turned on her heel and almost ran up the stairs to the main hall, but not before Varric saw the tears in her eyes.

Hawke was staring after her when Varric turned back to him. Varric couldn’t remember ever feeling as angry with his friend as he did right now. Walking up to him, Varric punched him in the part of his anatomy that was within reach.

‘What was that for?’ Hawke gasped as he bent over double.

‘All things considered, Hawke, it would have been better if you’d just shagged her!’

 

Varric took a deep breath before knocking quietly on the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. When there was no answer, he turned the handle gently.

‘Herah?’ he called softly. He walked quietly up the stairs, stopping at the top to look around the empty room. He let out a low whistle. Ruffles had certainly given the Inquisitor a room befitting her station. Shaking his head he stepped out onto the balcony.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, moving to sit next to her. He watched her carefully as she took a swallow from a half empty bottle of whisky, not registering his presence. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her eyes puffy and red.

‘Stupid question,’ he said, making himself more comfortable. ‘You want to talk about it?’

A long silence passed before she spoke.

‘They made me choose,’ she said, looking out over the mountain landscape. She took another swallow, before continuing, ‘The Nightmare, it blocked the way out after the three of you left. All of us would have stayed I think, to get the others out, but only I have this,’ she gestured angrily with her marked hand, ‘so of course I had to get out. And they made me choose. Hawke and Stroud. Which one should stay.’

She turned to him and for possibly the first time he saw her eyes un-shuttered.

‘Who would you have chosen, Varric? What would you have done?’

‘Hawke,’ he said, without thinking. ‘I’d have saved Hawke.’

She nodded and turned back to the skyline, taking another swig from the bottle. After a moment, he reached out and took the bottle from her, taking a large mouthful before handing it back.

‘He’s not angry with you, you know. I know that doesn’t help, but I’ve seen him like this before. When Leandra… when his mother died, he’d lash out at those he was closest to. He was angry with himself, with the mages, the templar, the Maker…’

She didn’t say anything but she did put the bottle down on the ground between them, pulling her legs into her chest.

‘It wasn’t personal,’ Varric continued, picking up the bottle and taking another swallow. ‘He was just trying to get a rise out of you.’

‘I know,’ she said, her voice quiet. She turned her head so that her cheek was resting on her arms and Varric could feel her studying him.

‘You heard the Nightmare’s taunts, Varric. You all did. I… I trusted him. And Hawke… he saw my deepest fear, and he used it.’  
Varric clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably.

‘I’m not excusing him, but I don’t think Hawke heard as much as you thought,’ he said, tightly, trying to convince himself as much as her. ‘Hawke has a lot of demons he carries around. I think he was a bit distracted by his own nightmares.’

She let out a long sigh and nodded.

‘I heard what the Nightmare said about… about his family. That can’t have been easy for him, having that dragged up again.’

She wiped her cheeks with a hand.

‘I guess I over-reacted. I deal with that sort of thing every day. I should be used to it. It was just… Having someone I trusted, someone I thought I might…’ she broke off, flushing slightly and shook her head, turning it so she was looking out across the skyline again. ‘He’ll be leaving soon anyway.’

Varric was silent for several minutes before turning to look at her.

‘I know others might not mean it as a good thing, but why do you find Tal Vashoth an insult?’ he asked, curiously. ‘If I were you, I’d own it. I’d be proud I wasn’t part of the Qun, proud of the Vashoth heritage.’

She looked at him oddly for a moment, her head tilted, before smiling slightly. ‘I guess I never saw it like that.’

‘Perhaps you should start.’

 

Varric suppressed a sigh as he saw the figure slumped over his desk. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this conversation yet.

‘I royally fucked up, didn’t I?’ Hawke said, looking up as he approached.

‘I think that may be what is commonly termed as an understatement,’ Varric said, sitting down opposite him. ‘Still, it could have been worse. You could have called her ‘ox-man’.’

‘I’d never…’

‘You may as well have done. Did you not hear what the Nightmare was taunting her with in the Fade, Hawke?’

‘I was… uh…’

‘I know, I know. The Nightmare brought up a lot of shit you’ve buried but never dealt with. And you were distracted by the fact that the Nightmare was taunting you about her.’

Varric shook his head in disgust as Hawke looked at him in amazement. ‘Seriously, Hawke, I’ve known you how long and you don’t think I’d have picked up on that?’

‘I’m guessing she, er, she didn’t…’

‘Of course not. She was too busy dwelling on the Nightmare taunting her about how no one would ever want an ox-man, a savage, a Tal Vashoth.’

Hawke paled. ‘I… I didn’t think.’

‘Hawke, when do you ever think?’ Varric sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. ‘I mean seriously, offering to stay in the Fade? And being so bloody stubborn that you had to make her choose for you? I just thank the Maker that she at least has sense!’

‘You’ve spoken to her?’ Hawke asked, looking up. ‘How… How is she?’

Varric fought the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Not great, but she was barely holding it together before you decided to ream her out for saving your life. You were just the icing on the cake.’

‘Do you think… Would she speak to me?’

‘Give it time, Hawke. She might.’

Garrett smiled ruefully and gazed back down at his hands in contemplation. After several long minutes he looked up again, a slight frown on his face.

‘You said the Nightmare was taunting her about no one wanting her… Was there… Is there anyone specific?’

Varric gave him a look that would charitably be described as pitying.

‘Andraste’s tits, Hawke, you really are an idiot, you know that?’

 

It took a couple of days and a not-so-subtle interjection from Varric for Hawke to finally muster up the courage to broach the topic with the Inquisitor and admit that he had been an arse. Herah had looked him in the eye and told him that yes, he had. Personally, Varric would have left Hawke to sweat a bit longer after that, but apparently she was a sucker for the kicked puppy look, and within an hour the three of them were sat in the Herald’s Rest sharing a bottle of wine and steadfastedly avoiding the topic of Nightmares and what any of them may or may not have heard while they were in the Fade.

From then onwards, normal relations appeared to resume, with the exception that Hawke became increasingly and inexplicably inarticulate or clumsy when the Herald was around.

‘Maker, Hawke, what is wrong with you?’ Varric exclaimed, as Hawke wiped up the wine on the table, spilt when he hurriedly stood as the Inquisitor took her leave of them one evening a couple of weeks later. Hawke threw the rag on the bar and slumped back into his seat.

‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘Can you imagine what Isabela would say if she could see me now?’

Varric let out a low chuckle as he imagined Rivaini’s reaction to Hawke’s impression of a love-struck chantry boy.

‘She wouldn’t believe me if I told her,’ he said, shaking his head. He looked at his friend seriously. ‘This isn’t because I made you promise not to sleep with Herah is it? Because that was me worried about her just being another casual dalliance for you, and I think you are well past that stage by now.’

Hawke mumbled something incoherent.

‘What I don’t understand, is why you don’t just tell her,’ Varric said, taking a sip of wine.

‘She’s only just forgiven me for… Well, I have no desire to get back into her bad books.’

‘Hawke, it’s quite obvious she likes you.’

Hawke let out a loud sigh and sat up a bit straighter.

‘At least I won’t be able to make a fool of myself for much longer. I’m leaving for Weisshaupt in the morning.’

‘What?’

Hawke shifted in his seat and looked at Varric sheepishly.

‘I, er, said I would travel to the warden fortress at Weisshaupt. Let them know the truth about how Stroud died.’

‘And you were going to tell me this when?’

‘Now, obviously,’ Hawke said, smiling beguilingly. ‘You wouldn’t mind letting the Inquisitor know for me? And Carver?’

‘Maker, Hawke,’ Varric said, burying his head in his hands.

 

‘Ser Tethras?’

Varric looked up at the scout in front of him, with a slight frown. Hawke had been gone for two days and he still hadn’t found the words to put into his letter to Carver.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘You’re needed in the Infirmary, Ser. Urgently,’

Varric put down his pen and hurried to the new medical building. As he entered, he saw the Inquisitor sat next to a bed at the far end of the ward, bending over a familiar figure.

‘Hawke!’

The Inquisitor looked up as he approached, releasing her hold on Hawke’s hand and gesturing for quiet.

‘Scouts found him on the road a day’s ride from Skyhold,’ she said. Her eyes were bright, and her bottom lip trembled as she looked down at the figure on the bed. ‘They’re… they’re not sure what happened to him. They think he may have fallen from his horse and suffered a blow to the head. He was unconscious when they found him. The healers are worried about hypothermia, and he… he won’t wake up.’

Varric came to stand next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as a tear broke free and trailed down her cheek. She squeezed his hand gratefully.

‘I wish he’d told me he was going,’ she said. ‘I would have sent scouts with him. Who tries to make that journey alone?’

Varric shook his head, guilt clawing at his innards. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why hadn’t he made sure Hawke was travelling accompanied?

‘Inquisitor?’

The two of them turned as Cullen entered the infirmary. He pulled up short as he saw the figure in the bed.

‘Any news?’ he asked. Herah shook her head.

‘The healers have done all they can for now. We just need to wait and see if… if he wakes up.’

Varric gave her shoulder another squeeze as her voice broke.

‘Josephine wanted to know if… well it doesn’t matter. I’ll… I’ll manage the war meeting without you,’ Cullen said. Herah smiled gratefully at him.

‘Thank you, Cullen.’

The Commander nodded awkwardly and turned to leave the building, leaving the three of them alone. Varric pulled up a second chair next to the Inquisitor and settled down. It was going to be a long night.

 

‘Varric?’

Varric opened his eyes to find Hawke staring down at him. Hawke pressed a finger to his lips as Varric sat up and gestured to his left. Herah was asleep in a chair on the far side of the bed, her long limbs dangling awkwardly over the arm as her horns rested against the wall.

‘What happened?’ he whispered. ‘I feel like I’ve been hit by a pride demon.’

Varric grimaced.

‘Scouts found you unconscious, a day’s ride from Skyhold. They brought you in the day before yesterday.’

Hawke nodded, raising a tentative hand to his head.

‘Something must have spooked the horse. I don’t remember being attacked.’

‘You were lucky they found you when they did. There are wolves in these mountains, Hawke. Not to mention the fact you were close to losing your extremities to frost-bite.’

Hawke winced. ‘Are you mad?’

Varric sighed. ‘Honestly, I’m just glad you’re alive. We almost lost you, Hawke.’

Garrett nodded, slowly absorbing the information.

‘Has she been here long?’ he asked, with a nod to the Inquisitor.

‘The Inquisitor hasn’t left your side since you arrived. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so shaken up.’

Hawke looked at Varric, who allowed himself a small smirk now that he was convinced Hawke was going to be okay. His friend was saved from responding by the sound of the lady in question stirring.

‘Hawke?’

A relieved smile stretched across her features as she saw he was awake. She disentangled herself from the chair and shuffled over to the bed.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, her eyes playing over his face.

‘Sore, but I’ll live,’ Hawke replied. Herah’s eyes filled and Varric could see his friend watching her with a dawning realisation, a grin tugging at his lips.

‘I’ll go let the healers know you’re awake,’ Varric said, excusing himself. When he reached the end of the ward, he looked back at the two of them. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but a muted chuckle reached his ears and he saw Garrett reach a hand up to brush away a tear from Herah’s cheek.

‘Ser Tethras? Is everything okay?’

He turned to look at the healer who had come up behind him.

‘Everything is fine,’ he said, with a smile, manoeuvring the man with an arm to guide him gently back to the side room where the healers were stationed. ‘Ser Hawke is awake but is currently discussing a matter of a sensitive nature with the Inquisitor. I suggest you go in to check on him in about half an hour or so.’

The healer looked slightly bewildered but nodded in understanding. Varric waited until the man had returned to his office, before glancing back into the ward. He was just in time to see Hawke pull the Inquisitor down into a kiss.

About time, he thought, as he walked out of the infirmary to let Curly know the good news.


End file.
